Welcome to Gaia! ::

As the floating quill scratched out the last name of the year Zander sighed. They were done finally. Picking up the old hat he smiled. "Seems like I am brave enough to do this sort of thing eh?" He said softly to the had as he cradled it in his only arm. With a swish of his hand the stool popped into the hair behind him and floated gently behind him. Moving off the raised platform and out of the way, Ophelius following quietly behind him, Zander smiled. Sorting was finally done.

I'm sorry but no you may not be sorted. Also all new members must begin as a 1st year.

Here they were again. Once more the halls were filled, the staff present and the first years stood nervously awaiting their new home. With Ophleius at his side like always the young History of Magic professor made his way to the font of the hall. Behind him floated a old stool while cradled in his arm was the ancient hat that would decided the first years fate. Right now the Sorting hat was silent but he knew soon it would burst into song like it always did at the beginning of every year. Gently he waved the chair into position.

"When I call your name please come forward and take a seat on the stool. I will then place the Sorting Hat on your head. After it calls out your house you will go sit with your new housemates. Let's begin..." Zander's voice was calm and clear over the silence of the hall. With a flick of his wrist the list half unrolled and hung in the arm before the one armed man. Adjusting his glasses he called the first name out to the crowd of terrified first years. They were all so cute. He couldn't help but wonder what kind of people they would become.

As the small child took a seat on stool he smiled again. The hat stirred in his grasp as he shift to grip it by it's top. Settling it on the small head he found himself wondering just how that hat managed to fit every student who ever came to Hogwarts. Magic was such an amazing thing now wasn't it? Falling silent he waited along with the others for the new house to be called.

Fiona O'Connell

People say that, in a nutshell, I'm every aspect of a spoiled brat. Things have to go my way or I toss a fit. People wonder if I was raised eating off of a silver spoon, but honestly my parents don't but up with my bull (whatever that means). I'm also very loud but afraid of a lot of things. Despite my bad attitude, I can make friends very easily, because I'm very loyal and trustworthy (apparently).

The numb feeling had built all during the journey from the station to the Great Hall. She and Belle had talked a little but the words slowly dropped off as everyone seemed to feel the moment growing heavy with expectation. The castle was more grand then she could have imagined as they slid across the impossibly still Black Lake. Her legs carried her up the many stairs to the front of the castle but as they entered the enormous doors, each step weighed heavier and she felt a slight tremble in the presence of such grandness.

The Balford estate was really something but she just felt like a passing visitor there, this was to be her home for the majority of the next seven years. This place of such history and mystery would rule her life and the people inside it could become friends or enemies. When she found herself walking slightly close to Belle she blushed and took a step away. Swallowing hard, her chin jutted out defiantly and she attempted to infuse a confidence that she didn’t quite feel in her gait. The old Hildy was afraid and timid, she wasn’t the same girl any longer.

She would be strong, she would be capable. She could make it on her own.

Her eyes narrowed as a man stepped forth with a tatty old hat and she gasped when it sprang into animated song, giggling a slight nervous laugh at her own surprise. One by one, students were called up and the Hat mused over their placing. The tables cheered as new members joined their ranks. Looking around the room, Hildy tried to find Chase at the Ravenclaw table but the mass of faces blinded her to individual identities and seemed too vast to consider.

As Hildy’s name was called, she plastered a look of cool indifference on her dark features and marched forward to the wobbly stool. ‘My da’s house. My da’s house. Please.’ Hildy chanted half to herself, half willing the hat but all of it half-hearted. She knew that it would make her da happy, but would she be happy there?

Would anything really make her happy these days?